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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170195">Too Cold For A Walk.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayla221bee/pseuds/Ayla221bee'>Ayla221bee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Christmas Fluff, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Established Relationship, Floor Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:29:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayla221bee/pseuds/Ayla221bee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>'It was far too cold to go for walk that day in Mycroft’s opinion.'</p><p>Mycroft and Greg are in a cabin in the forest and go for a walk even though it's too cold.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mycroft Holmes &amp; Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Too Cold For A Walk.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was far too cold to go for walk that day in Mycroft’s opinion.   It had snowed heavily during the night, coating the ground in a thick layer of snow that went up to Greg’s ankles when he had stepped out of the cabin that they had rented for a long weekend.  Several of the older trees in the forest that they were in seemed to bend slightly from the weight of their new coats on their bare branches.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was far too cold to go out for a walk even if he was awfully bored in the cabin and from the time off that he had been encouraged (more like forced by)  to take. He had to wear two pairs of socks and several layers in the attempt to stay warm.   Mycroft had reluctantly allowed Greg to cover him up in a blanket and quilt as he read in front of the fireplace. It made him wonder if his brother’s teasing comments and Mrs Hudson’s comment about him being a reptile and cold-blooded were somewhat accurate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had complained about the blankets when Greg had tucked him in.  He had tried to ignore his teasing about how he was chilly and needed to be warmed up, and how he claimed that he looked adorable under the blankets.   Mycroft did not mind too much when Greg had decided to warm him up, often getting under the layers of blankets and holding him. He had also been the intent of warming him up in other ways since they had arrived in the cabin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As much as he appreciated that Greg had arranged for the two of them to get out of the city, Mycroft found himself in a state of boredom.  Greg had claimed that being surrounded by nature and being in a cabin would allow him to start writing that novel that he had always wanted to do, feeling rather inspired by after he had read  Walden.  Mycroft had tried to write several times but struggled to capture a single sentence,  Greg annoyingly had much better luck than him.  He claimed that Greg was cheating, he was writing a crime novel that was inspired by a case that he had been on with Sherlock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> There was no internet and lack of phone service.  Greg had claimed that it was the only way that he couldn’t be bothered by his work when they were away-  he still had not quite forgiven the Prime Minster for phoning during a moment of intimacy.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Prime Minister was not able to look at him in the eye these days and he was somewhat intimated by Greg after receiving a mouthful on the phone after the second time that he had interrupted.  If he had to be honest, Mycroft did not mind it too much,  the Prime Minister had bothered him less these days and only phoned him in major events, directing any calls and queries to Anthea after five o’clock instead of his personal phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg was dressed in his big coat and a pair of sturdy walking boots.  His scarf was wrapped around his neck and he wore a knitted hat.  He stood by the sofa with Mycroft’s coat in his hand, offering it to him.   “I am convinced that you are going to grow moss under those blankets,” he said. “You were claiming that you were bored and a walk might help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft huffed and shook his head, pulling the blanket up in the attempt to keep himself warm. “It is much too cold for a walk. I’ll freeze to death.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg let out an amused snort and knelt down by the sofa. He pulled the blanket down and pressed a kiss on Mycroft’s cheek.  “I think that you are in just in an awful mood as I’m writing more than you are.  A walk will help you feel a bit more creative.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t count if your story is inspired by my brother,”   Mycroft replied with a dramatic sigh. “Please use a pen name when it gets published. He is going to be even more unbearable if he finds out that you have written a book about a case he was on.  My parents are going to be so annoyingly thrilled with it as well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I’ll be even more annoyingly thrilled once you manage to get a few words down. You need to stop being so much of a perfectionist with it.  You’ll find yourself there eventually, that is what the woman on the writing class said.  A walk will help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft huffed once more and reluctantly parted away from the blankets, he made a half-hearted comment about how he regretted signing up for the writing class with Greg which was a complete and utter lie.   He put on his coat and boots, Greg half dressing him, wrapping the scarf snugly around his neck and putting a hat on his head, pressing a kiss to his exposed nose.   </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I look ridiculous,”  Mycroft muttered once he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said that you were cold,”  Greg teased, handing him a pair of gloves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’d rather much stay inside.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can find some ways to help you warm up when we are back,”  Greg said with a raised eyebrow.  “I know that you would be agreeable to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Only because it is you,” Mycroft replied, a smirk starting come on his face when he recalled the night before and how Greg had helped him warm up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was far too cold for a walk and he had made it clear to Greg several times.    Greg had been less than sympathetic to his moaning about the weather and how cold it was, telling him that if he walked instead of standing there and moaning, then he would warm up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reluctantly took on Greg’s advice and took hold of his hand, partly as it was his favourite thing to do and because if he managed to slip and fall in the snow, then at least Greg would be going down with him.  If he had to be ridiculously cold then it was only fair that Greg had to be as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The snow crunched under his boots and the noise was wonderful.  He had always liked the snow, a childish love that he had not quite managed to part from.   He still kept a love for winter, al of his favourite things seem to happen during the season; hot chocolate,  snow and how it was perfectly socially acceptable to sit inside all day and read books by a fireplace without little social interaction.  He would reluctantly admit that he rather enjoyed Christmas, only really enjoying it with Greg in their flat, a rather low key affair to what his parents liked to do but it had suited Mycroft well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t be happier walking in the snow holding Greg’s hand,  Greg seemed to have a similar sentiment. He chattered enthusiastically about what he had been writing and where he wanted his story to go. He stopped to take pictures of the trees and the hills in the distance, and of a robin that was perched on a branch with his phone.  Mycroft reluctantly allowed Greg to photograph him even if he looked completely ridiculous, Greg claimed that it was endearing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took several of Greg as they walked around the forest by the cabin. He took pictures of when Greg was not aware of the camera, his attention caught by a robin that he saw or the snowman that he decided to make and take a picture of for his niece. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His favourite picture was one of Greg perched on a  tree that had fallen down years ago,  his eyes were on him but unaware that the camera was on.  Greg had made a joke about him trying to get phone signal out and how he was trying to get a helicopter to get him out of the cold. It was completely and utterly ridiculous but Mycroft found himself chuckling at it regardless, blaming the cold for freezing his brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>There was a fond expression on Greg’s face as he looked at him. It was a look like Mycroft could not describe even if he had the words to do so.  It could only be described by one of his favourite authors, he believed that only Shakesphere or Wilde had the ability to do so.   Greg looked at him as he was somehow spectacular.   A look that he interpreted as  Greg being completely and utterly thrilled to be with him in the middle of nowhere, a look of ineffable adoration.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Mycroft realised that he only had one love story within him and it had only been Greg.  He wanted nothing more than for him and Greg to have a happy ending and do everything in his power to make one happen if such a thing did exist.  He realised that he would be anywhere if it meant that he could be with Greg, even if it meant that he was cold for the majority of the time.  He would follow him anywhere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Marry me,”  he said, hardly realising the words that he had come out of his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg looked up from the snowman that he was wrapping his scarf around its neck. A confused expression was on his face that somewhat confused but he somewhat looked endearing.  “Did you just say what I think that you did?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Marry me?”  Mycroft repeated.  “ I hope that you don’t mind the ring, it’s the best that I can do in short noice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took off his gloves and removed the gold band from his right hand.  The ring that had been given to him by Rudy, one of his more subtle pieces of jewellery that he used to wear.   He would get a more suitable ring in the future but it would hopefully make do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg strode up to him and kissed him before he had the chance to kneel down in the snow and get his trousers damp.    “You’ve ordered me to marry you,” he laughed rather wetly. “You could have just asked and I would have said yes!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He removed his glove and let Mycroft placed it on his finger.  Mycroft pressed a kiss on the ring and quickly put his glove back on before his fingers got cold.  “So is it a yes?”  Mycroft asked. “I am just wanting to make sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg silenced him with a kiss before he started to drag him back to the cabin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He didn’t have a moment to take off his coat when they arrived in the cabin before Greg had practically pounced on him, pressing him against the door and kissing him as if his life depended on it.  His hands tugging at his coat to remove it, keeping to his promise to help warm him up after they had been outside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft followed suit, helping to remove the layers of clothing off  Greg  in between kisses , an ecstasy of fumbling as he did so.  Coats and gloves being left in clumsy pools on the floor as they made their way to the living room,   going to the bedroom felt like far too much effort. They hardly seemed unable to wait a few preciously moments as they hungrily kissed and removed clothing from another. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg reluctantly pulled away and in his boxers, started to fiddle with the fireplace, trying to get some heat going.  He looked rather exist kneeling on the fake fur rug that was beside it.  They weren’t as young as they used to be and Mycroft was certainly less flexible to manage sofa like he was a teenager again, they had tried before with limited success. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stripped off the last layers of clothing and impatiently handed Greg the bottle that they had used for their earlier activities.   “You’ll complain that you are cold,”  Greg said with a raised eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I believe that you will do a sufficient job of warming me up,”  Mycroft said, nipping Greg’s bottom lip before he straddled his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg let out a surprised noise and kissed him teasingly. “Oh  I’m gonna do a lot more than warm you up,” he smirked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Please,” Mycroft breathed out.   His hands running down Greg’s chest and sides teasingly as Greg flipped them over and started to work him open.  “I want nothing more than you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got me forever,”  Greg said, his voice muffled from pressing kisses to his long neck.  His hands were gentle but with just enough roughness that made Mycroft ache for more, his brain only capable of thinking about Greg, his body aching for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg gently moved his legs, spreading them open and Mycroft could only willingly allow himself to become a vessel for Greg’s pleasure on the rug.   He congratulated himself for his wonderful decision to take Greg’s invitation for dinner years ago as  Greg slowly pushed himself in ad moved just the way that he liked it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His body instantly started to crave for more, his arms wrapping around Greg as he moved with him. He opened up his eyes at the right moment as Greg’s movements changed and pleasure washed over his face, he buried his face in his neck and moaned out his release.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kissed Mycroft deeply as if that would be enough to tell him that he loved him without any words. His message was clear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He carefully slid out and moved down, swallowing Mycroft down. It hardly took any time, gripping the rug as he found his release, shivering with delight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg wiped his mouth with his hand and kissed him.  “Are you feeling warmer?”  he asked with a smirk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Much,”  Mycroft hummed, lazily running his fingers down Greg’s chest.  “Why are you smirking?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg scooted up to him and wrapped his arms around him. “I think that my idea of going for a walk was a rather good idea, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mycroft silenced him with another kiss, refusing to admit that Greg was right about the matter</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The fic that no one needed  but hopefully it was okay!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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